


Inpatient

by vanessa_cardui



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, Kidnapping, Medical Restraints, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Turned Rapist, suicide attempt references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 18:00:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11407614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanessa_cardui/pseuds/vanessa_cardui
Summary: When Ashley swallowed a bottle of Xanax, she didn't expect to wake up again.  She really didn't expect to wake up chained up in her psychiatrist's basement.





	Inpatient

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nonnymouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonnymouse/gifts).



As Ashley came to, there was someone fucking her. She was already pretty into it, and it felt good; she was wriggling against the smooth, steady force of his cock, and she tried to move her hand down to press down, right over her pussy--that felt good, when she had a good sized cock in her, and. . .

And her hand didn't move. She pulled harder, and nothing; she was. . . Ashley opened her eyes, looked up at her hand. It wasn't fuzzy handcuffs or anything like that--there were those big blue velcro restraints, like they'd had at the hospital, and. . . she looked up. Dr. Laurence was fucking her. He was wearing a blue polo shirt, and she couldn't see below his waist, but she felt his skin against hers. . . he was smiling down at her. He didn't stop fucking.

She wanted to say something, but she couldn't--her mouth was full. And it wasn't the hospital. She'd been discharged, and it didn't even look like the hospital. There were timber boards overhead, and plywood, and copper pipes twisting up through them. A basement? And she'd--

"Back with us, Ash," said Dr. Laurence, with that deep, mellow voice that always sounded like he really cared, even if nobody else did. "You're lucky; that was a lot of pills you took."

It was. It had been. She'd gotten into a fight with Paul, and she'd thought about calling him and making up, again, but it had all been so pointless. The fight, and the making up, and everything else. So she'd downed half a bottle of Xanax, and. . . he still hadn't stopped. His cock was bigger than she thought it would be, and it was . . . she couldn't move her hands, couldn't move her legs, her mouth was stuffed with something.

Ashley started shaking her head, trying to spit out whatever it was that was holding her mouth closed, and it didn't, and--

"Shh," said Dr. Laurence. "I know. It's an adjustment. But think about it this way. You wanted to die, right? You made your choice, and took those pills. So what am I taking, here? Something that you wanted to throw away. You can't be too mad about someone picking up something out of the trash after you threw it out."

Ashley was pretty mad about everything. She shook her head, and she yelled into her gag, and . . . and Dr. Laurence kept fucking her, strong and steady, his hands moving from her hips to her breast, his thumb ghosting across her nipple. "It's one of the things that makes working with kids so damn hard," he said. "They're so wasteful with what they have."

He picked his pace up. "You threw yourself away, Ashley. And now I've picked you up out of the trash. You get an instinct with working like kids like you, and that note was pretty vague. All signs point to suicide, and there are a lot of bridges in the city."

She'd scrawled out something. An apology, though she wasn't sure who she was apologizing to or why.

Dr. Laurence's hand closed on her breast, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp. "It could be that I'll give it back to you when I'm done. After there are some changes, after I can be sure you're not going to throw it away again."

Ashley screamed into her gag; all that came out was a whimper.

Dr. Laurence shook his head. "I know. I know. You have a lot to say about this. You've always had a lot to say. But now isn't the time for talking. Now is a time for listening."

Then his eyes rolled closed, and his pace picked up. Ashley squeezed her eyes closed as he came, tried not to feel it, wished that she was back where that Xanax had taken her. But she felt it, and he . . . when she opened her eyes, he was fastening his belt, as he headed up the basement stairs.

"There," said someone behind her, "goes one fucked up dude."

Ashley looked over. It was another girl, older than she was, and wearing something gray. Hospital scrubs, maybe?

"No, but okay. He's got his wife, who he fucks on the regular. Twice a day, every day. You can hear them, if you listen carefully at 7:00 AM and 11:30 PM. And there's me, and there's his daughter, who lives in the city, who I think he might be fucking? And then he goes out to get another girl, who he thinks is going to try to commit suicide in a way that'll make her easy to kidnap. You'd think, this guy has either two or three girls, and uses them regular like. Why risk that for another?"

Ashley made a questioning noise. Who was . . . what was she . . .

"Exactly!" said the girl. "Fucked up dude." Then she added, "Sorry, I'm June. Fucked up my suicide a . . . well, a while back anyway. Dr. Laurence found me and patched me up. Took a while before I saw things his way, but while he's not okay in the head, he's also not completely wrong."

She stepped out from behind Ashley, and ran her hand along her side. "I mean, you're really pretty. And if you're dead, you know, that's wasted. Even necrophiliacs would only get two or three uses out of you then, if they were allowed, which they're usually not."

Ashley shook her head. No.

"I know," said June. "I know. It's going to be a whole big fight before you even eat anything, and it's going to be months before you start seeing things that way. But whatever. We've got months. And I've got to get you clean."

She walked around to where Dr. Laurence had been standing, and looked down at Ashley, who shivered. "Aw, come on," she said. "I mean, you can't say you didn't enjoy that."

Her finger ran along the length of Ashley's pussy, dabbed into the puddle that had been dripping out from inside. "I mean, come on. All puffy and used and. . ."

June trailed off, and leaned forward. "And Dr. Laurence promised me a treat, if I kept up with my coursework," she said. "You're going to be a lovely treat, Ashley."

Ashley closed her eyes as June lowered her head onto her pussy. She was scared and cold and scared, and if June thought she was going to get her off after that, it was going to take her forever.

Then again, it seemed like June and Dr. Laurence had all the time in the world.


End file.
